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Sick day
I want my 5-year-old to feel better, but for selfish reasons. Don’t call child protective services just yet. Of course, I love my son and don’t want him to suffer, but I would rather be shopping. With just two weeks until Christmas if I don’t get moving I may have to tell my kids Santa Claus died. Instead of chillin’ with the early bird mall walkers, I am home wiping a snotty nose and watching “Fred 3: Camp Fred.” It is a show on Nickelodeon. Fred Figglehorn is quite possibly the most annoying character on television. He speaks in a voice similar to Gilbert Godfrey and takes fashion advice from…
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Screenshot This
Recently, I wrote a piece voicing my opinion on the STFU Parents Blog. Blair Koenig, who operates the site, left a scathing comment and sent out a tweet. I expected it. I did not expect to receive offensive emails calling me a bad mother, crazy and even attacking my husband’s military service. Apparently you are not allowed to disagree with Blair. I know I am not the only one. It seemed the visitors coming to my site weren’t familiar with my sarcasm and sense of humor. I should have taken the high road, but decided to respond to her comment like I often do. Then, my supporters started getting…
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Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater
It’s always a good time with my friends until one of the girls talks about sex in front of my pubescent son. We met today at a local pumpkin farm, husbands and children in tow. It’s an annual tradition. This place is like a poor man’s amusement park. Admission is less than $50 for a family of five. There are huge slides, games, a corn maze, wagon rides, farm animals, etc. Plus, this year they added a zip line: I was the middle-aged woman screaming like I had just bungee jumped off the grand canyon. It was fun though. Actually, it was the perfect day. We ate cider donuts and…
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Steam Clean
I have come to the conclusion that the best baby shower gift is a steam cleaning machine. Before you are a parent you think you need stuff like a “Diaper Genie.” You can’t smell the dirty diapers that is until you open the lid. If you think shit smells bad, guess how good shit that has been stored for a few days in a plastic container smells? If that thing was a real genie it would make the diapers disappear. Registering for a baby shower alone is like drunk texting. You will regret it. Bring an experienced mother with you. I have used my steam cleaner more than my coffee…
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Spiderman is absent
My 5-year-old has been sick for two days. Initially, I thought I had been duped. The sneezing and coughing magically stopped after I decided he would stay home from school. He even asked if I would take him to the park. Honey, are those superhero masks cutting off oxygen to your brain? Hell to the no. Instead, he played with toys, video games and even made a brief appearance as Spiderman. He enjoyed ice cream and potato chips. We watched all his favorite TV shows. “This is what I’m missing when I go to school,” he said. Hardly. I am just trying to make up for my completely irrational reaction…
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I’m Sexy and I Know It
We had our first conference with the teacher this morning. It wasn’t scheduled. We were running late, as usual. My husband and son walked in the building moments before the bell rang. As my he turned to leave the teacher stopped him, “Can I have word with you?” Oh no, what did he do? Was he speaking out of turn? Did he hit someone? Did he use a red crayon when he was told to use green? None of the above. “I am very proud of your son,” she continued. “Yesterday a few boys were singing “I’m Sexy and I know It” during playtime. Your son pulled the boys aside…
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Metal mouth
Here we go again. I will be making another trip to the orthodontist. My son knocked off a bracket. He has no idea how it happened. Oh, I don’t know, maybe it was the pretzels or gummy bears he snacked on while I slept. I don’t keep an inventory of food, but I am not stupid. He complains daily about having to wear braces. He will thank me someday. I’m spending nearly six grand so he doesn’t end up looking like 75% of the people at the state fair. Besides, he is already 12-years-old and will have them off in a year. Well, that is, unless he has a lousy…
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Vindication!
I was pressured to potty train each of my three children. “You better get that baby out of diapers.” I wasn’t being lazy. I didn’t enjoy cleaning feces off my child’s arse. They weren’t ready. Still, I caved to the constant criticism. My son cried like Nancy Kerrigan as he sat on the potty chair. Whhhhhyy? I bought a seat with cartoon characters hoping to make the experience fun. More tears. I purchased a seat that played music when he tinkled. More tears. I became a potty chair collector. However, unlike Precious Moments figurines, I couldn’t display them in a curio cabinet. (I never quite understood the fascination with that…